Butterfly
by thisisawittypenname
Summary: NS with a healthy dose of GS angst. A strange dream reveals Grissom’s true feelings, but by the time he figures it out, will it be too late? Oneshot


**Butterfly**

Summary: A strange dream reveals Grissom's true feelings, but by the time he figures it out, will it be too late?

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI as much as I wish I did. Lets not dwell on it. It makes me sad.

**A/N: **This is my first fic (Snickers, of course), so play nice. Reviews make me giddy with pleasure :D

**W**here was he? Surely not Vegas… he saw neither deserts or the neon signs of the strip. He was on a road, that he knew for sure, but it didn't help him identify his surroundings.

"Fine" he chided himself, "If you don't know _where_, what do you know?"

He knew his bare feet burned as he stepped on the scorching pavement. He knew the cotton pajamas he'd fallen asleep in wouldn't provide much comfort against the pounding sun. He knew he was here for something; blood pumping through his veins screamed for him to hurry. But for what? Then Gil Grissom did something unexplainable.

He ran.

He winced as sore feet slapped against the ground, but with each stride he took, his mind cleared. He learned something new; he wasn't running away from something, he was running towards it.

Salt and pepper curls plastered against his forehead, a bead of sweat trailing down the bridge of his nose, he stopped to catch his breath. He hadn't realized how… old, he was. The realization made him sigh as he hung his head. And when he looked up, she was there.

It frustrated him that he couldn't read her face. Emotions flickered across her features as she approached him. Pain, he recognized, sorrow, frustration, mixed with something else. Acceptance?

He closed his eyes, savoring her touch as she toyed with a curl of his hair, knowing the flush creeping across the back of his neck had nothing to do with the heat. When she withdrew her hand, his body missed her touch. When she started to walk away, it clicked. She shook her head.

"Too late, Grissom" she smiled sadly, "Too late."

He cursed his age as he struggled to go after her; his muscles wouldn't respond and his chest heaved. He couldn't move as she started to disappear, becoming a silhouette against the blinding sun. He blinked, and she was gone.

But was it his imagination, or had he seen her intertwine hands with another figure before she vanished?

Grissom woke with a start, thin sheets tangled around his sweaty frame. He looked around. "This setting, at least, is familiar" he thought, a pang of loneliness shooting through him as he took in the sparse room. Blank walls, an empty bed, and a digital clock seemed to leer at him as he sighed, staring at the ceiling until the beeping clock told him to go to work.

It was a slow night; only Greg and Catherine were assigned a case, a B&E off of the strip. Catherine had called him a while ago. "Seems pretty open and close" she'd said. "We've got surveillance tapes and some prints. It shouldn't take us very long." Grissom expected the pair back any minute.

Grissom himself had, not unexpectedly, holed hup in his office, with the remnants of a very bad headache. But, standing at the door and leaning against the doorframe, he could watch the rest of his team.

Warrick and Nick were in the break room, eyes glued to a football game on TV. Warrick sat on a metal chair, lanky arms draped against the back of it, smiling. "Looks like my pockets are going to be hea-vy" he teased, urging his team on to victory.

Nick just grumbled from his position on the couch, nursing a cup of coffee. "We'll see" he responded, before physically cringing as the opposition plowed through his team's defense. "How much did we put on this game, again?" he asked, a little whine in his voice.

"Probably too much" cut in an amused sounding voice.

Sara. Grissom moved so he was out of sight.

Nick looked up, the disappointment of losing to Warrick replaced by an endearing smile. "In my defense, this game was supposed to be"- he shot an angry glance towards the TV –"a sure thing."

Warrick laughed, shaking his head, before asking, "Where've you been, Sara? I thought you didn't have a case tonight."

She sighed, "Trying to find Greg and that coffee of his. There's no way I'm going to make it through the night one that stuff." She groaned, jerking a thumb at the coffee pot. "I heard Hodges made it, and after last time…" she paused, eyes resting on the mug in Nick's hands.

"Something interest you, Sidle?" Nick grinned, taking a sip and feigning delight. "Mmm…"

Warrick laughed. "That's just cold man. Just because you got the last cup of Greg's famous coffee before he left…" He shook his head, before seeing Sara's face light up at the mention of the lefendary (at least within the lab) Blue Hawaiin. Before she could say anything, Warrick got up. "Although I think I know where he keeps his stash. I'll go see if its there." He chuckled, walking out of the door with a wink.

"So… Nicky" Sara purred, taking a seat on the couch next to Nick. "What would it take for you to give me that mug?"

"Not a chance" Nick replied, looking a bit too smug for Grissom's taste. "Now don't distract me."

Sara rolled her eyes, smirking, before leaning against him, head cradled in his neck. Grissom let out a hiss of breath as Nick draped an arm around her shoulders in response.

Grissom closed his eyes. All of a sudden, he felt his headache returning. Rubbing his temples he wondered. When had this happened? How long had it been going on? And why did no one, at least himself, notice? He sighed… maybe that dream had meant something.

He chanced another look at the two of them. Sara, looking rather pleased with herself, was drinking from Nick's coffee mug as he absentmindedly stroked her hair; an intimate gesture that seemed so natural for Nick, but one that Grissom could never come close to doing.

He turned away, retreating into his office and shutting the door behind him. He looked around, eyes resting on a small, framed butterfly. He took the specimen off of his wall, placing it in the small garbage bin by his desk.

Like it or not, Sara was someone else's butterfly now.

**A/N:** So what do you guys think?


End file.
